


The Other Homestead

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: Car Trouble, M/M, Summer, Summer Love, Travel, matthew is so young
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 06:21:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14665122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He certainly was a young something. the life he was glancing at now was very different from the one he “wanted”. Instead of a warm laptop buzzing in his lap, he was bouncing a baby on his knee. And instead of a “smokin’ hot blond” leaning in for a hot make out sesh, he was simply eyeing another young something. Wait...i guess Matthew was the smokin’ hot blond.Al just wants to go home.





	The Other Homestead

“What mom?.....Yeah I’ve got everything…..yes they’ve all gone…..do we have to do this now i-...it was a jump start. A good start to college. Did he sign the documents?......that man is my father don’t say that….yes mom…..yes mom. I’m on my way home. Love you.” Alfred spoke to his mother on the phone with a fake smile contorting his face. 

 

College wasn’t everything he dreamed of. His life had been shoved into his hands before he’d realized he wasn’t ready. He tried to like dorm life, roommates, and “reasonable” classes, but having his best friends far away wasn't helping. Even the concept of “Home” was out of his reach. 

 

So there he was in his dorm lying to his mother. He felt complete knowing what it meant to “lie through his teeth”. He had looked up the idiom on the Cambridge dictionary before his she had called to discuss his trip back home. Summer had rolled around for the 19-year-old leaving much to be desired. Like a bigger bedroom.

 

One average person standing straight in the middle of his dorm took up too much space. Then add 3 loft beds, a desk, a fan, somehow a TV, and the dressers. And cramming two more messy, tall, jackass men was enough to end his life. He hated every second and found he enjoyed the structure in class more than trying to figure out where he would be on a Saturday night. Free time scared him now. He denied himself the pleasures of being 19 and dug himself a grave. 

 

Life kicked him in the balls. He didn’t have a girlfriend to care about his problems, his parents were busy getting a divorce, and his best friends back home were kickstarting their lives...without him. They all went to Washington University while Alfred had chosen Iowa state. He hated Iowa and every piece of open empty land that he would have to drive through. 

 

What was I thinking?! Alfred fretted as he looked the dorm over one last time. It was as empty as it had been the first day he’d gotten there. He would get a new dorm next year with better people (he hoped) and didn’t want to leave a single sock behind. No remnants of the life he’d started unhappily. He stood in the door frame lost in thought. 

 

The first thing you saw when you opened the door was a wide window. A window that Alfred had spent many a night studying. Burning the midnight oil because he’d put it off. The one piece going well for him was his grades. Because he had killed himself for it, they were nearly all A’s. But still, he was dying for the cause.

 

He would miss that window.

 

Alfred hauled up his bags and backpack and sauntered down the hall. The familiar yet still unknown scent of his floor washed over him. He knew this place well enough to be happy he was leaving. He Descended until he was walking through the bright parking lot. The air felt sweaty on his skin and was doing wonders for his mood. He unlocked the doors and flung his stuff into the trunk of his black 2008 Toyota Corolla. The driving cross country wasn’t the best idea for this car, but it was all he had. A gift from his father when he had turned 17. At the time it felt brand new, but now he knew very well that it was used. Alfred sunk into the driver’s seat and clutched the wheel. His father should have bought him a series of plane tickets. The engine growled then pulsed when he turned the ignition. Surely that would add up to what he’d played for the car. 

 

His route would take him from his college (Iowa State University) to his hometown Seattle, Washington. His phone screen said 27 hours. Alfred backed out of his parking spot and tried to hype himself up. Just a few days out on the open road. Passing by cows and empty towns. Nothing to fear. Nothing to fear. He had something to fear. Five hours of solid driving until he made it to anywhere with a hotel.

 

.o0o.

 

Once he drove out of the city he fell into a rhythm: Gas, pedal, coast, switch the radio station. It was boring. The world spun in a wrap over his windshield. Flat ground rolling by with the occasional cow, horse, or tractor roaming through a field. All he had to fear was his mind and where it would wander. His mindscape went out far beyond the limits of his car doors. Up through his childhood memories and dreams, plowing through his greatest fears, and settling on the road ahead. 

 

The roads turned into interstate where the open plane was darkening and the trees were reverting to shadows. God must be pushing down a dimmer switch. The tension that had built up over the last few months was ebbing away with every half-mile he drove. He was driving to Seattle where his mom would try to explain to him how his father was the enemy. How his father was a bad man. How his father betrayed them both. That wasn’t the case. Breathe behind the wheel.

 

Alfred was completely alone beside a few stragglers. White headlights streaked past like falling stars and red lights followed like ghosts. When they passed he would suddenly become insightful. Wondering where they were going and what they were doing. What were their hopes and dreams? Were they driven by more than just a car? If they had met, would they have fallen in love? Even if it was fleeting, even if it was painful, and even if it was real, would it be it worth it? 

 

Alfred became aware of a new sound. Mixing with the common din of his engine was the sound of metal scraps being chewed beneath his feet. Ignore it. It was night now. Solid, thick, and buggy, it was upon him. Through the open road, hours had melted through him. The interstate has to cut itself off at some point and lead him to a cheap hotel somewhere. He wanted a clean bed to sleep in. He had faith in this dream.

 

One of the lullabies his mother had sung to him played on his lips. He hummed the lazy tune:

 

“All through the night

I'll be awake and I'll be with you

All through the night 

This precious time when the time is new

Oh, all through the night today

Knowing that we feel the same without saying”

 

Pretty. It reminded Alfred of simpler things like- Shit!

 

The crunching sound was louder now. Beating on him and thrumming through vibrations. With it, his car was trembling out of turn. Alfred turned the wheel and wandered to the road shoulder. In annoyance, he nearly ripped the door open and stepped out. The night air was so thick it choked him. He walked around and opened the hood. Nothing seemed out of order, but then again he knew nothing about cars. Alfred shrugged and hopped back in. It would sort itself out. But as he turned the ignition a squeal-like sound mixed with a low growl.

 

He was done. 

 

Alfred put his head on the wheel. He was so tired. He had such a long way to go, his GPS didn’t even show that he was out of Iowa. His eyes ached from watching endless road coming going past him. Nothing showed up on the horizon, there weren’t any signs to point him in any direction, and no will to move. He slumped in the seat. This was not happening to him. He couldn’t begin to figure out what was wrong with his car. For all he cared, He could have lost a whole tire. He was so confused. What had he done to deserve this? Where was he going to go?

 

.o0o.

 

In spite of himself, the song “I Would Walk 500 Miles” came to mind. His feet stepped on the hard tar as he moved forward slowly. He wanted to die right then. Just him and the road. 

 

If he thought driving was purgatory, walking was hell. Especially in darkness. Vague shapes came into view but didn’t stay. Ahead of him, what little light there was reflected off a sign. The white turn symbol on a blue background pointed to the left. No harm in going that way. There was no use hoping. Alfred was going nowhere fast. The sound his feet made turned into slushy, wet gravel. Making his knees ache when he slipped on the uneven soil. 

 

He fished his phone out of his pocket and tried to call home.

 

His mother never picked up when he needed her to. 

 

He went on this way for what he guessed was a mile until all his grit was gone. Alfred moved to the side of the road and sat on a patch of softer ground. He took off his backpack and took a drink from his last plastic water bottle. Necessities. 

 

He counted his options to keep himself awake: keep walking, go back to the car and sleep, or sit here waiting for someone to find him. The road had tire tracks in it and seemed well traveled, people must not be far off? His car was locked tight. Can’t be that terrible.

 

It was terrible. 

 

As Alfred had been walking he had become aware of a dark mass in his throat. The mass grew and cut off all oxygen. It made him want to scream and stamp his feet at his misfortune. He felt like a little kid again. If anyone were to look at him now he was sure they would see an overtired 3-year-old. He encompassed all the elements: young, out of place, overtired. His body weighed a ton and it felt like his brain was leaking out. 

 

Alfred sprawled out on the painfully solid ground and laid his head on his backpack. He would ache like hell the next morning, but this was what he got. Alfred F. Jones, almost a straight A student rendered petulant because he was stuck on a dirt road in Iowa. He had a place to go, but he didn't really want to be there. He was actively trying to sleep on the ground. Trying to push the tarnished memories and childish fears away. 

 

The night rested around him in a molasse like mass. A thick haze crowded his senses and bugs gnawed at every piece of exposed skin. He curled his knees up to his chest and sighed. This was a great start to the summer. 

  
  



End file.
